A Heart Without A Beat
by theychosefamily
Summary: Dean is nothing without his brother, "a heart without a beat". It's my interpretation of what Dean was going through with Sam's death in Swan Song before he leaves Bobby and goes to live with Lisa. You may consider this Wincest, if you want to.


Slugging back another mouthful of whiskey, Dean began to wonder what bottle he was now on. Third? Fourth?

He didn't really care. Anything to keep his mind off his brother… his stupid, reckless brother.

Sitting on the ground in front of his beloved Impala, Dean rested his head on the edge of the bonnet and stared at the stars.

Two days ago, Sam jumped into the pit with Adam to save the world.

Two days ago, Dean didn't realise he'd actually have to fulfil his promise to Sam about not bringing his stupid ass back...

Staring at the sky, Dean groaned and whimpered at the empty ache in his chest. He had drunk enough for the past few days and had screamed at the Heavens endlessly. Begging an absent angel to bring his brother back. But no one answered... and nothing could take away the crushing guilt on his chest no matter what he did to numb it. He was here and his brother is down where he was over a year ago. _Oh God, Sam..._ His eyes threatened to leak again. He wiped them furiously with his arm. Shutting his eyes, he fought to stop another sob fest.

From the side of the Impala came a flutter of wings.

A crunch of gravel.

"Dean?"

Dean opened his eyes and looked up. Castiel stood over him and looked down at him with an expression of confusion and worry. Dean didn't like that; he didn't want his damn pity. He didn't want anything from him anymore.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled at the angel, raising the bottle to his lips again

"Dean... what are you doing?" Castiel replied

Dean stopped in mid-swig of his drink and glared at Castiel.

"What am I _doing?_ I'm just having a ball over my brother's death down here, Cas. How about you? Anything new?" Dean asked, his words dripping with sarcasm "Oh right of course, I hear you're the new sheriff in town upstairs. How's that going for ya? I forgot you were God's little bitch again."

Castiel's frown deepened.

"Dean, it's chaos up there at the moment. I wouldn't say I'm in charge but..." Castiel struggled "When Lucifer rose, my brothers began to question their survival of this war and who's side to take. Many have rebelled. It made Heaven a chaotic place to be and now... now I suppose I'm the one to clean up the mess. There is nobody else to do it anymore."

"All I care about is my brother being in the pit with Lucifer and Michael."

Dean stared down the neck of his whiskey bottle and concentrated on fighting the tears that fought back just as hard. _Don't cry, don't you dare cry_.

"I know you do, Dean. But what you're doing right now isn't going to help yourself." Castiel said

Dean's jaw clenched.

_He's just another dick angel… he wouldn't know anything about grief, _he thought to himself, fighting the urge to swing at the angel.

"Sam wouldn't want you to be like this. Sam would want you pick yourself up and find Lisa-"

Dean's expression cut Castiel's words off.

"Don't you tell me what my brother would want for me, you ignorant dick!" Dean snapped at him "You know jack squat about what he wants! All this was about two goddamn angels who decided throw their toys out their prams! My brother is the one who is suffering now... all because of your stupid plan and your stupid Armageddon!"

Dean's voice had steadily risen and there was a throbbing pain inside his throat which stopped him from saying more. Castiel's eyes were full of pity again. Dean _hated_ that.

"Dean, I want to help. I do, but you're not making it any easier for both of us. You need to keep fighting." Castiel pressed him

"I am this close to kicking your ass and sending it back to Heaven." Dean threatened quietly

"You need to keep fighting." Castiel repeated "I need you to keep fighting… because I need your help." He looked away into the open road, biting his lip, unable to believe that he had just dared to ask more from Dean

Dean stared at the angel before him. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. _The bastard wants my... my help. After… _Rage began to sour in his stomach. His hands clenched into fists and his ring bit painfully into his palm.

"_What?_" Dean asked through gritted teeth

Castiel turned his gaze back to the hunter and pierced Dean's eyes with his own.

"I said, I need your help."

Dean scoffed and looked at his bottle of Jack which over the past few days had become his best friend, his medicine, his drug. He chugged the rest down and threw it where it smashed somewhere in the darkness and lay in pieces.

Wiping his mouth, he grabbed the bonnet of his precious car and staggered onto his feet. There was a sluggish feeling rolling round inside his head, giving him a clear indication that he was going to regret this in the morning. Again.

But he steadied himself and focused on the angel who eyed Dean with a hint of fear.

"Are you being serious?" Dean asked with contempt

"Yes." The angel answered

Anger from the pit of Dean's stomach began to rise.

"You son of a bitch." He whispered "My brother's dead and you want my help?"

Dean stumbled forward a little but his eyes never left Castiel's.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just drop in and expect me to drop everything I'm doing to help you? I don't think you get it when I say 'I don't want anything more to do with you.' My help ain't gonna be given until my brother is alive. You bring him back and I'll give you all the damn help you want. Sounds like a pretty fair deal to me."

Castiel screwed up his eyes and shook his head from side to side a little. His tortured expression angered Dean more.

"Dean, I… I can't bring back Sam. If I could, I would've brought him back the moment he fell into Hell. Please, if you'd just understand-" He pleaded, his hands gesturing wildly

"You healed me! I didn't ask you to save my ass! I didn't want you to! Why can't you save Sam's?" Dean yelled "This was your damn war! Not mine! Not Sam's! Nobody else's but yours and your goddamn brothers! Bring. Him. Back."

Castiel's jaw clenched and he didn't reply. He shook his head with sadness.

Dean wanted to lunge at the angel and beat some sense into him. More than that, he wanted to hurt him. Make him bleed; make him feel pain like a human being would feel. He wanted to say things that would hurt Castiel to a point where he couldn't stand it. Make him retaliate and hit Dean back, distract him from the destructive chaos inside of him. He clenched his fist, ready to do some damage to Cas's nose when the angel looked back up at Dean.

"I'm sorry."

Those two words stopped everything. Dean's strength and anger suddenly left his body. He felt tired. He hadn't slept since Sam's death. Exhaustion slammed into him and almost knocked him back to the floor.

Castiel stared at this deteriorating human before him who looked like he was ready to fall to his knees. He moved towards Dean with his hands outstretched, ready to catch him.

Dean shoved Castiel's hands away from him and fell drunkenly against the Impala as he did so. He held onto the doorframe for support and trembled as he struggled with his last bit of strength.

"Get the Hell away from me…" Dean whispered, barely looking at the angel

"Dean-"

"I SAID, GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Dean screamed, ignoring the pain that flared in his throat again

Castiel's bottom lip trembled and he stared at the man for one more second before disappearing again for the last time.

There was a moment of silence before Dean collapsed back onto the floor, his back held strong by his baby. He threw his arm across his face and let a few tears escape onto his leather jacket. He sat like this for a good half an hour before wiping away any stray tears. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed heavily. Reaching into his pocket and retrieving his cell phone, he scrolled through his contacts. His finger hovered over the green button once the name he wanted to call appeared. Dean's head thumped with a familiar pain and he rubbed his temples slowly to ease it. He cleared his throat and muttered to himself, making sure his voice didn't betray him with emotion.

His finger stabbed the 'call' button.

Three trills rang out. Dean changed his mind and was about to hang up when a familiar, grumpy voice answered.

"Hello?"

Words got stuck in Dean's throat.

"Hello? Dean? Are you there?"

Dean cleared his throat.

"Yeah, no… I'm here, Bobby. I… I didn't hear you for a moment there."

"It's 3:30am, son. What's wrong?" Bobby grumbled before cursing himself silently, knowing he had asked the wrong question

Dean hesitated before replying.

"I, uh… I don't know. I just, uh… I was speaking to Cas just now and he, uh, he's still not gonna bring back Sam. So I basically told him where to get off, y'know. Think I scared him. Poor bastard should know what's going to happen if he appears again" Dean forced a chuckle, though his words were slurred

"Oh right, okay."

There was silence on both ends. Bobby cleared his throat and tried again.

"Anything else you decided to wake me up for?" he asked, desperate to avoid the painful silence

"Just thought I'd call y'know. Keep you updated and stuff…"

"Dean?"

Dean closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from breaking down completely to Bobby. He loves Bobby, he means everything to Dean. He's practically the only family he has left. He _is_ the only family Dean's got left. Sam's gone. But Bobby's suffering with that fact too. Being helped along with never ending bottles of whatever he's got left in the cupboards of his home. Dean couldn't burden Bobby with the scary truth that he was spiralling out of control and didn't know what to do anymore. He took a deep breath.

"I'm… I'm in a bad way, Bobby. I've been drinking, I can't drive my car. I… I was… I didn't want to get this drunk. I didn't mean to call you and wake you up. I just needed someone to… Dammit, Bobby, bring him back." Dean voice cracked and finally broke into a fresh set of tears "Bring my brother back, please. I need… There's nobody else who will help me. I need Sam… Sammy… I need my little brother, Bobby. Please. Help me." This pathetic cry of help was so unlike Dean that he covered his face with his free hand, embarrassed

There was a silence at Bobby's end and Dean thought he had hung up until Bobby spoke again, gently.

"Drunken idjit. Alright, I'll come and get you. Where are you, boy?"


End file.
